


A High You Can't Get Off Of

by jb_mar



Category: Les Miserables
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3262862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb_mar/pseuds/jb_mar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragon!verse AU</p><p>After the Royals' ban on dragon taming, many people just turned in their dragons and walked away from the life for good. Not Grantaire. Grantaire has been a pain in the Royals' ass ever since the first ban. He quickly learns, however, that he is not untouchable, even high up in the sky. That's when Grantaire first meets Enjolras, a man unlike any other. Grantaire falls madly in love at first contact with the man, but as he is the leader of The Les Amis De Los Draguns, he figures the man is busy enough without a love life. But, when the royal's start placing heavier dragon bans, the riders become the hunted. Now, the riders must all stick together to ensure their own safety and Grantaire knows just who can save them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is my first story I'm publishing on Ao3 as my New Year's Resolution! I should be posting every two weeks, so that's something to look forward to (Although there will be some times where I'll have to post later and so forth). Thank you to everyone who decides to read it. It's really helpful to me! I can't wait to see people's reaction to this! Have fun reading
> 
> \- Julianna

Grantaire always had sticky fingers. It was something he had had since he was born, something that his mother used to say would get him into serious trouble. Not that Grantaire minded; He loved it. The threat of danger chased him, called him, yet caught him not. His mother, if she was alive today, bless her soul, would have reprimanded him good if she could only see what he was doing. His hair and cloak rippled in the wind now, flying lowly through a crowd of people swarming in the streets, the palace guards chasing him closely on horses, but there was no real threat of them catching him.  
As Grantaire flew, he reached into his burlap sack, pulling red rubies, gold chains, pearl necklaces, and other expensive goods he had stolen from the castle, bombarding the third class down below with the money, worth at least a month's meal. That's what Grantaire did. He may have been the biggest nuisance to the king and queen since the dragons began attacking the city, but at least he was doing some good. He couldn't help but notice some of the citizens shying away from him, fleeing back into their homes. This was expected, of course, as Grantaire's main mode of transport was a beautiful black and emerald green dragon. He had named his dragon Musian, after a small cafe in the city of Paris that he had favored. Ever since the dragons had attacked the kingdom, most citizens had been fearful of the creatures. How could they know, the poor ignorant people, that most dragons weren't like the ones that attacked them? After the dragons had been vanquished, dragon taming became illegal, but most people who were already tamers couldn't give up their precious dragons. They were far too attached to each other to ever let go. So, they moved into the mountains, becoming nomadic. Most of them did. But, Grantaire was different. Grantaire was a real fuck-you-I'm-going-to-do-what-I-want-then-rub-it-in-your-face type guy. He couldn't just hide up in the mountains and do nothing all day, especially when the citizens of the kingdom were feeling the effects of the debt that the royals had gained from fighting the dragons. No, Grantaire needed to be out there, doing something. Ever since the royals' son, the prince, had disappeared, carted away by a group of dragons during the early days of the war and never returned, probably as a symbol to the king and queen that the dragons were not to be reckoned with, there had been half the guards at the palace at all times, as all the others were out searching for the lost Prince, making it easier to break in and steal all the wonderful expensive items that the royals kept just for themselves.  
Pulling on the leather reigns, Grantaire steered the sparkling dragon higher up into the blue sky, dancing up where the clouds were for a brief moment before flying even higher, up above the white pillows. He laughed faintly to himself, softly stroking the back of Musain's black and green neck as he held tightly onto the shiny black leather saddle with his other. "Good boy..." He muttered. He rummaged through the burlap sack, pulling out what he had saved, a golden necklace, bedazzled with a diamond and ruby pattern right in the center. "And here's your treat for a job well done." He told the dragon, holding it out to him. Musian made a whinnying sound, much like an overjoyed horse would, and continued flying back to their home.  
As Grantaire soared, he couldn't help but notice the group of dragons, gliding around the top of the mountain together. Grantaire sighed tacitly as he carefully placed the stunning necklace back in his brown burlap sack. It was a group of about eight magnificent dragons, each with its own rider perched atop its back. This group, known to every dragon tamer on the mountain, was fondly named The Les Amis de Los Draguns. They were an underground group that could be described as a revolutionary movement. It had surfaced a few months after the dragon war ended, fighting for the rights of dragons and dragon timers everywhere. While Grantaire supported their cause, liked the idea of it, he wanted nothing to do with them. In his opinion, they acted as if they owned the mountains, arrogant, cocky, as if they were the only oppressed dragon riders out there. Even though he had seen them try to help the people of the city, they were never extremely successful either, and their methods were questionable at the very least, trying to burn into the castle to get jewels. Anyway, there was no way they would ever make any progress. A royal order is a royal order, it is not to be disobeyed. They would all end up with their heads bloody in a basket soon enough if they kept their revolt up.  
Grantaire wrapped the reigns tightly around his hands and pulled them taught yet again, planning to go around the mountain to avoid them, when, suddenly, a massive gust of wind beat down on him. He closed his eyes, flinching as he felt his own dragon waiver and begin to spiral to the ground as he lost his balance in the air. Grantaire, trying not to panic for the sake of his friend, pulled on the reigns, trying to slow his creature before it hit the ground. It worked, just barely, as Musian was able to steady himself before landing and collapsing to the ground in fatigue and pain. Grantaire quickly clambered off the back of the giant dragon, not wanting to scare his big friend, but very much worrying about him, checking his vitals. He almost didn't notice the man approaching him. Grantaire jumped out of his skin, defensively, as the man tapped his shoulder, softly and carefully. Out of Grantaire's belt, one with many pockets and places for holding things like weapons, whips (which he would never use on his dragon), and other important goods, Grantaire pulled his sword, thinking he was being attacked and brandished it, prepared to fight and defend his dragon at all costs. His boney fingers dropped the sword in utter surprise as he came face to face with the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen in his whole life.  
They twinkled, just as the crystals in the royals jewel room did when the sun hit them just right, and the cerulean blue color they were an exact color match to a clear blue sky on a warm summer's day, as if someone had hand painted this man's eyes to the exact color, paying attention to every little detail. Grantaire backed away a few feet from the startled man. The man's golden hair was pulled back into a pony tail, a red ribbon dangling artfully and tastefully from the back of his head, just barely able to keep his hair back from in his slight freckled and sun spotted face. He was clad in leather dragon rider's gear, a lot like Grantaire's, only a lot less worn in, almost new looking. Behind him, stood a firey, red dragon with an orange underbelly and yellow spikes and decals. The man grabbed Grantaire's hand that had just been holding the sword. "Monsieur, are you alright? The winds got rough and I saw you fall. I couldn't just leave you and your dragon" he told Grantaire in a hushed tone of voice that housed concern.  
Grantaire swallowed a lump in his throat and suddenly his tongue was tied. He begged his words and brain and tongue and every other part of his body that had become numb at the glorious sight of this man to become usable and understandable once more. He brushed the hair out of his own face a little to attempt and look more presentable before saying to the Adonis, "I... I'm alright, yeah. Thank you." He breathed.  
He turned back to Musain, who was now standing, weakly. His legs seemed fine, but one of his wings was bent oddly, out of shape. "Merlin damn it..." He muttered to himself, climbing up onto the dragon and checking out it's wing.  
The blonde man curiously watched him. "Your dragon doesn't look okay. I have a friend who specializes in helping dragons. Maybe he can help you out." The blonde offered.  
Grantaire looked down from his dragon's back at the Apollo. "I don't really feel comfortable with that..." He told him.  
Musain had an extreme fear of any other human besides Grantaire. Even now, he could see his creature and friend becoming wary of the blonde beauty. The blonde could obviously sense this. Not wanting to push the dragon into anything it didn't want to do, the blonde man nodded and mounted his own red dragon. "Suit yourself" he sighed softly, and his sigh was like heaven itself, as was his voice.  
The man's dragon trotted around, lingering for a few seconds. "Monsieur, I would get out of here as fast as you can if I were you."  
Grantaire was busy bandaging his dragon's broken wing, but he stopped for a second to reply. "And why is that?" He asked, maybe somewhat snappily.  
The blonde pointed to the direction of the kingdom. "The king and queen have ordered a search of the mountains. Anyone found with a dragon will be arrested and tried for treason, their dragon executed." The man explained. His dragon's wings pumped a few times at the mention of being killed before the man stroked his neck, calming him. "That's why me and my friends are going into hiding in the forest." He pointed to the swarm of dragons around the mountain.  
"You're a member of the Les Amis?" Grantaire scoffed a little, not believing it.  
The man's face was stone hard. "The leader, actually".  
Grantaire was taken aback by this. "Their leader?! So, you're the one who ordered the attack on the castle, burning half the town?"  
Grantaire balled his fists around the reigns, giving him something to hold onto and press his rage into. He wouldn't hit this man, but he wanted to, as his little act of "rebellion" had cost good families their homes. The blonde God sighed, exasperated. "That..." He stopped himself. "What use is it explaining it to you? You wouldn't understand"  
The man's fiery creature pumped its wings a few more times. The youth pat its neck, gently. "I must go, good sir, but, if you ever find yourself in a situation where you need me, just call for Enjolras."  
"Enjolras?" Grantaire repeated. "That is your name?"  
The blonde nodded "Yes. Ask for me, and I will come to your aid. Patria has very good hearing. She'll know." He stroked his dragon's beautiful scales once more. "Tell me if you change your mind about needing a doctor for your creature" And, just like that, the man took off, not another word spoken.  
Grantaire watched Enjolras go, chuckling slightly at what the man had said. "Enjolras" he whispered to himself, just to feel and enjoy and taste the foreign word on his lips.  
Of course he was the leader of the Les Amis, how could Grantaire have been so stupid not to figure it out? Grantaire stroked his dragon's neck. He wouldn't be able to fly out of the mountains, but the two of them could walk and find a place to hide until it all blew over. Grantaire just hoped it would be soon. Taking the reigns, he began to steer Musian through the quickly darkening forest.


	2. Grantaire is a Cocky Son of a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Musain crashes and is injured, Grantaire ignored Enjolras's warnings, straying into the woods uncarefully. When he is ambushed by gaurds, who comes to his rescue but the Amis!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is the second chapter I have written. This one, I didn't get anyone to beta because it was somewhat of a split of the moment thing. I had a different chapter written out, but I didn't really like it so, in an in the moment kind of thing, I scrapped the whole chapter I had planned and rewrote it within the past few days. So, here is the second chapter. I hope you like it!

Grantaire had never expected to be out this late. He had hoped to be back at the small cave before sundown, ensuring the safety of both he and Musian. Sadly, this was not the case, as Musian's broken wing had slowed them down quite a bit. Grantaire needed to squint now to see, and even then he could barely see three inches in front of his nose. Musian nuzzled him gently on his side, making a small sound. Grantaire laughed, quietly before shushing him. "Hush, boy! You're going to get us caught!" He scolded, mostly in a teasing manner, lovingly patting the dragon's snout.  
He didn't entirely believe the man he had met before. The warning Enjolras had given him had landed on numb ears. Grantaire had been trying to hide his dragon from the royal guards for years now, as had other riders. Why should tonight be any different than any other night? Every time Grantaire made attempts to steal, the patrols would slow down, the king and queen licking their wounds before sending out their soldiers again. Grantaire knew their every move. He had been playing this dangerous game with the royal family for quite some time now, as it had been about thirteen years since they had first passed their ban on dragons at the start of the Great War. How could Grantaire ever forget? It was the day Grantaire had been plucked from his little fantasy bubble he had called a reality and thrown into the cold, cruel world. One didn't forget days like that easily.  
Grataire, however, was easy going. He tried to move on, to forget, and not waste his life worrying about things in the past that he couldn't change. Grantaire lived in the now, and the now just happened to be the dark forest. Grantaire struggled to put one foot in front of the other without tripping over himself.   
His head snapped one way, his heart racing as he believed he had heard something rustling the berry bushes that surrounded him. His fist clenched Musian's reigns tighter as the dragon suddenly stirred. Grantaire shushed him for real this time before continuing their walk. It was only the wind, after all, correct? How bad could it be? Grantaire ran a timid hand through his hair as they walked now, silently creeping through the underbrush. His mouth was dry. He felt as if a thousand eyes were on him, waiting...  
With a cry, an arm erupted from the bush, trapping Grantaire's free arm and pulling the man away from his dragon. Grantaire's grip on the reigns didn't waiver, but he let out a startled shout. He kicked out, violently struggling. There was a crunch under his foot and Grantaire found his arm free. Grantaire took this opportunity to attempt an escape. The wind whipped as Grantaire's feet hit the trail, dragging a bellowing Musian behind him. Grantaire yelped as a menacing looking palace guard blocked his path, along with a shorter man, holding his nose, blood dripping down his face and onto his white uniform. He gazed at Grantaire with a pissed off expression and Grantaire assumed that the man's nose was what he had crushed under his foot. As the guards surged forward, Grantaire took a few timid steps backwards, turning Musain's reigns to tell him to make a complete 180, but the guard with the broken nose grabbed Grantaire from behind. Musian angrily growled at the man, but the other guard pried Grantaire's tense fingers free of the dragon's reigns, forcing the beautiful creature's head to the ground. "In accordance to Act II of the Anti- Rider's Amendment, you are under arrest for possessing a dragon." Broken Nose growled into Grantaire's ear, wrapping a rope tightly around his wrists.   
Grantaire squirmed against him, but it was a pathetic attempt and he gave up. Grantaire's fingers fiddled with the frayed rope that cut into his wrists, itchy and irritating. Musain was whimpering, his head under the other guard's boot. The palace guard took a huge sword, silver and sharp, out of the holster on his belt. Grantaire's heart sped up. "W-what are you doing?" He asked, before earning a slap across the face.   
"Sending this monster where it belongs" The guard muttered, in disgust.  
Grantaire's eyes widened. He wouldn't give the guards the satisfaction of making him cry, but he could feel the salty tears stinging his eyes. "No..." He whispered to himself, then shouted, "No! No, please!", beginning to struggle once again.   
The guard laughed at his patheticness and began to swing the sword down on Musain's neck. Grantaire screamed in horror and shut his eyes, tightly, not wanting to see the decapitation of his only friend. He expected to hear the soft ker-plunk of a head falling to the ground, and the inevitable and figurative shattering of his heart, but when that didn't come, he forced himself to pry one eye open.   
The blade had been stopped by a long, blue tail, an icy blue rather than the rich blue of Enjolras's eyes he had seen earlier that day. It had wrapped around the palace guard's blade, yanking it away from him and tossing it into the air, into the hands of the rider, a strapping man with curly, rich, brown hair. His grip on the sword tensed and un tensed as he traced the dull side of the blade with his pinkie finger. His wild eyes were aflame with a playful, teasing light. A smirk played on his face as he brandished the weapon. "Well, what have we found here?" He laughed, turning the sword over in his hands.   
The guard who wasn't holding Grantaire barked at the man on the dragon, "By order of the law, surrender yourself and your creature!"  
Grantaire's savior laughed mockingly, "Oh, well, if it's the law, I suppose we should obey" the man taunted.  
A second dragon landed gracefully next to the man, a large, yellow thing, somewhat resembling a giant bird, majestic still in a way. The palace guard scrambled backward, utterly shocked by this one. The rider, a man with mousey brown hair, hastily and somewhat sloppily cut, but with still somewhat of a regal air to him, looked down at the guards, expectantly. The fiery torches that the palace guards held reflected off if his circular glasses, concealing his eyes from view. The man spoke with a powerful voice about him. "What my partner is trying to say is that you better let this man and his dragon go, or we'll have to use force"  
Broken Nose dropped Grantaire instantaneously, sprinting back towards the kingdom, yelling for more guards to come help. The second gaurd scowled at the men riding the dragons for a second before harshly kicking Musian's head and stalking off. Musain roared at him angrily, but the mouse like man jumped off of his own dragon and pet Musain's neck, surprisingly able to calm him down. The other man jumped off his dragon and took the sword he had stolen from the guard, bringing it down onto Grantaire's ropes. "Hey... You okay, buddy?" The man asked, his eyes full of concern.  
Grantaire quivered as he massaged his rope burned wrists. "Yeah... Yeah, I'm okay..." He breathed, hesitantly and shakily standing.  
He rushed over to Musian, where the other man was checking his dragon's vitals. "He's alright, Monsieur, except his wing." The man commented.  
Grantaire nodded, solemnly. "That happened this morning" he quietly breathed.  
The curly hair red man's ears pricked. "This morning?" He glanced over to the other man.   
Suddenly, Grantaire realized the obvious. "You two are part of the Amis, aren't you?" He asked, almost groaning. He had been saved by the Amis twice in one day, that was not going to reflect well on him in the long run.  
The curly haired man nodded. "I'm Courfeyrac. That's Combeferre. You met our leader, Enjolras. He sent us out to look for people who needed help tonight. Clearly, we've done our job." He offered Grantaire his hand as he mounted his dragon. "Hop on. Ferre will help your dragon to fly. C'mon, we're taking you back."  
Grantaire reluctantly wrapped his fingers around Courfeyrac's and he was yanked onto the dragon. "Back where?"  
Courfeyrac looked back at him. "Back to Enjolras"


End file.
